


You're a Wizard, Dean

by wistfulthinking_00



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Cas is so in love it hurts, Dean is a Keeper, Dean is in love but doesn't think cas would like him like that, Destiel - Freeform, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Gay Castiel (Supernatural), Good Slytherins, Gryffindor Dean Winchester, Happy Ending, Hogwarts, Hufflepuff Castiel, Idiots in Love, John Is Okay With It, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Muggle Sam Winchester, Nerd Castiel, Not completed, Quidditch, Romance, Slow Burn, Smart Dean Winchester, Some angst, because fuck those stereotypes, but dont worry, but not a whole lot, he's only an ass for the first couple chapters, probably smut, they are both idiots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-04-20 14:23:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14262942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wistfulthinking_00/pseuds/wistfulthinking_00
Summary: “Mary was a Witch…?” John looked crestfallen, like his entire world was just flipped- Dean supposed it had.“Not the kind of Witch that you’re thinking of, John.” Harry was quick remind him. “Not the kind that use Voodoo to torture innocent victims or get what they want in undesirable ways. We wish to guide your son so that way he does not fall prey to those who wish to abuse the Magic powers they are gifted with at birth. I cannot lie to you and say that there have never been bad Witches and Wizards born of magic, but I promise that we are the good ones; the ones who only want to use our powers for good."In which Dean finds out he's a Wizard, goes to Hogwarts on a scholarship, and his whole life is changed for the better.And if he falls in love with his best friend Cas along the way, who's he to question it?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, 
> 
> So this is my first Fanfic that I'm posting on Archive, and im both excited and nervous. I'm not really sure where this fic is going to go, or if I'll even finish it. I'd just like to warn you that I am that type of author that might not update for months at a time. I cannot guarentee I'll finish this fic, but as of right now I plan to. I hope whatever I write you guys enjoy. 
> 
> So anyway, here's the first chapter! I'm sure there will be plenty of grammer or writing errors if not in this chapter, in future chapters to come. Please let me know if there are any, this is definitely a work in progress so also expect changes to the chapters. Thank you in advance for reading!
> 
> Wist~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Listen to me carefully, and please try to keep an open mind when I tell you this. -Harry Potter

“You’re a wizard, Dean.”

Dean was frozen where he stood, a protective arm stretched outward in front of Sam, shielding him from any sort of danger that might threaten his baby brother. The strange man that stood before the children had striking emerald eyes and a head of thick black hair, with glasses slightly crooked balanced on the bridge of his nose. His accent made it obvious that he was not from anywhere Dean was familiar of. 

The dusty air in the dingy motel room tickled Dean’s throat. He swallowed and stood perfectly still, unable to respond to the stranger that had broken into their room and had their Dad, with expert reflexes, reaching for the gun he always held around his waistband. However, just as quickly as the man came in the gun was forced out of John’s grip and thrown with an unseen force across the room where he could not reach. It happened so fast Dean wasn’t quite sure how it happened, only that his father was now weaponless. The only kind of being with that sort of power was a Demon, and Dean did not like the look of those circumstances. 

But the man’s eyes never turned black, like his father had told him. Dean had never seen a Demon in person before, but somehow he had this weird feeling, somewhere deep in his gut, that this was something else. There was no malicious expression on the man’s features, neither did he do anything other than disarm John. 

John, decisively bewildered, stared down his target like a fox to a mouse; ready to attack if the man so much as moved incorrectly. “Who the hell are you and what are you doing breaking into my room?” John had all but yelled. At this point Dean had dashed to Sam’s bed, where the boy had woken up startled by all the noise, dragged him off and shielded his brother behind him. 

The man, unfazed by his father’s vexation, calmly replied in that odd accent of his. “My name is Harry Potter, and I am here to offer your son, Mr. Dean Winchester, a scholarship to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

John, if possible, looked even more confused and angry. “I-What in the loving fuck are you goin’ on about?!”

“Your son, Mr. Winchester, is one of the many selections for our new program where we of the Hogwarts administration have set up to invite students outside of England to come and-”

 

“I’m going to stop you right there, Fish ‘N Chips.” John interrupted, and the look that Harry Potter gave his father was almost laughable. “My son is not going anywhere near your fucking school of fucking Witchcraft. I don’t know where you think-”

“Mr. Winchester,” It was Harry Potter’s turn to interrupt. Pulling out a piece of rolled up paper and unraveling it, he examined the words on the paper, adjusting his glasses as he did so. “You are… Hunters, correct?”

When John didn’t say anything, Harry Potter continued. “Then I can assume that you are getting my kind confused with the muggles who practice Voodoo, not Witchcraft.”

John, not for the first time, gave him a confused look. “What-”

“You must understand, Mr. Winchester. There is a clear difference between Voodoo and Witchcraft. Those who practice voodoo call themselves Witches, but most do not possess true Wizard Magic. Voodoo, while able be practiced by Magic and Non-Magic folk alike, is an evil practice that only blackens the soul in a way only Dark Magic can. Dark Magic and Voodoo are not something we at Hogwarts, or any good-hearted Witch or Wizard, condone.

“Furthermore,” Continued Harry Potter, seemingly wanting to get the information out before John could interrupt again. “Voodoo is not Magic people are born with. However, Wizard magic is; And your son, Mr. Winchester, possesses it.” he then turns to Dean, Acknowledging him for the first time, and says “You’re a Wizard, Dean.”

Dean could only stare back at him, unable to process the information just given to him. However, he was hardly given the chance to digest what was said when his father spat back. 

“Hold on just a goddamn shittin’minute.” John practically spewed venom. “You do not, I repeat, you do NOT break into my home, go on about this Magic school and tell me that my son possess this so called Magic, and expect me to just let me give him to you like this is some kind of family freakin’ reunion.” Dean could have sworn the vein on John’s temple would pop. “Listen here, Mary Poppins, if Dean really had this… magic like you called it, I would know, okay? He’s not a freak, he’s a Hunter. A Hunter in training, but a Hunter no less. He’s going to hunt shits like you once he learns how to hold a gun straight.”

Harry Potter had this look on his face, an almost sad expression. “You’re the kind that isn’t going to listen to reason, are you.”

 

“I’m beginning to think you’re actually trying to push my buttons.”

Harry sighed. “John, is it?” John didn’t reply. “Listen to me carefully, and please try to keep an open mind when I tell you this.”

John eyed Harry up and down, but his mean expression did not change.

Harry took a moment to look at John, then to Dean and Sam huddled in the far corner of the room, then back to John. “Your late wife, Mary Winchester?” The stiffening in John’s shoulders was miniscule, but noticeable. “Formally known as Mary Campbell? She was a Witch.”

“You’re lying.” John said, without missing a beat.

“I’m afraid not. She attended Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry here in America.”

“How would you even know this, if it were true?”

“When we chose your son to invite to our school, we did some background checks; mandatory of any potential student wishing to attend Hogwarts. Nothing too personal, just who the parents or any other ancestors might be and what school they attended, if any. And we discovered that Mary had attended Illvermorny in 1991, excelled in Charms and was an excellent Keeper in Quidditch. When she graduated she sought a more normal life among the Muggle community. That, and a file containing her academic grades, are about all the information we have.” 

John was visibly shaking. “I have no reason to believe you.” He said, almost too softly to hear.

Harry takes a few careful steps forward toward John, arm outstretched as he offered the roll of paper to him. “Would you like to see the file we have of her?”

John hesitated, but then took it with shaking hands. He unrolled it and read through it quickly- John was a self-taught speed reader- then read through it twice more and swallowed. 

“I’d be happy to provide more proof, but this involves giving me a small bit of trust.”

“Mary was a Witch…?” John looked crestfallen, like his entire world was just flipped- Dean supposed it had.

“Not the kind of Witch that you’re thinking of, John.” Harry was quick remind him. “Not the kind that use Voodoo to torture innocent victims or get what they want in undesirable ways. We wish to guide your son so that way he does not fall prey to those who wish to abuse the Magic powers they are gifted with at birth. I cannot lie to you and say that there have never been bad Witches and Wizards born of magic, but I promise that we are the good ones; the ones who only want to use our powers for good.

“If it helps,” Harry says after a beat. “Dean does not have to pursue Magic as a career after he finishes schooling. It is completely his choice if he wishes to never use Magic again, and continue being a Hunter or whatever it is he wants to do. Your wife did the same thing, did she not? We only wish to teach him how to use and control it, and to not use it for any twisted desires.”

“I-...I still don’t…” John searched for words. “I’ve never seen, or even heard, Dean using magic before. It’s not…”

Harry Potter steps away from John and gently makes his way toward Dean and Sam, still pressed against the corner wall of the room; Dean hadn’t let his guard down for even a second. 

He stops a few feet away from Dean, smiling softly and asking “Dean, think hard about this okay? Did you ever make anything happen? Anything you couldn’t explain when you were angry, or scared?”

How was he supposed to know? Dean could hardly follow along with the conversation, and he was expected to give some kind of testimony as to why he was or wasn’t a… what was it again? A Wizard? Clearly, this guy was completely off his rocker. Obviously there wasn’t- 

...Actually, there was that time when he was really little, back before his Mom died. He had been riding his tricycle up and down the street. His mother was inside baking a pie, Dad was at work, and Sam was taking a mid-afternoon nap in his crib. 

Suddenly, a car swerved onto the street, speeding down the road. The driver clearly had no control of the car, and it was heading straight for Dean. Dean squeezed his eyes shut, fear and adrenaline coursing through his body, just waiting for the inevitable moment where the car would run him right over. 

But after a few moments of nothing, Dean curiously opened his eyes and the car had suddenly vanished. Dean looked all around, but the car was nowhere to be seen.

Later that night, Dad had on the News Channel and the News Lady was covering a story about a car that had crashed into a pole on some road on Long Island. When interviewed, the driver swore up and down that he had no idea how he got to Long Island, and that he was on his way home from a friend’s party where they lived in Kansas City. Dean may have been young, be he was smart enough to recognize the name of his home town when the guy had mentioned more details about where he lived.

And then, some years later, when Dean was maybe about eight and a half years old, his Dad was out on a hunt and he and Sam had been left at yet another dingy motel room, expected to take care of themselves. Dean had just taught himself how to use the stove, and was attempting to heat Sam and himself some Spaghettios. The Stove that the motel had was one of those older stoves that needed oil to light the fire. When the stove wouldn’t light no matter how many times Dean clicked the knob, he almost punched the wall in anger. Dean glared at the fuse in the stove, practically willing it to light so he can eat something other than cereal for once when suddenly-

It lit. Of course, the flame was a little too big and was enough to throw Dean backwards onto his ass and scorched the countertop a bit; but as quickly as the flame came it died back down to a small, decent sized flame. Dean, while decisively startled, shrugged and let the spaghettios heat, thankful that the fire didn’t burn down the room or worse, burn the spaghettios. He told his Father that the scorch mark had always been there, and didn’t think much about it when his Father also later discovered that there had been no oil in the stove at all, meaning there was no way Dean should have been able to turn on the flame. It was almost as if it was-

“Magic…” Dean whispered out loud, and Harry took that as the answer he needed before turning his attention back to John. 

“Please, hear me out.” Harry Potter pleaded. “When I was first told I was wizard, as I too had not known seeing as my parents passed when I was young, my Aunt and Uncle were so adamant on not having me go they actually moved away to this cabin in the middle of the ocean somewhere. Thankfully, they hadn’t succeeded and the school was able to drag me away from them so I could attend. I beg of you, do not be the person that deprives your son an experience such as this. I for one could never imagine my life if I had not went to Hogwarts. I understand you are still processing this, and it is a lot of information to take in. But please, think about how this might benefit Dean. He needs to learn how to control his powers or he could endanger himself and others.”

A beat, and then “I came here myself to give you this invitation in hopes that you could push aside any prejudice or hesitations you might have. I am sorry that I broke into your home in the middle of the night, but I was informed that you are a trained Hunter and would easily shoot me if given the chance. I chose to do it at night to lessen the possibility of any bystanders that might call the police or something to that effect. Knowing I would have to use Magic to quell any danger to my person that might arise, not having witnesses would be welcome.”

“I take it this whole ‘Magic Community’ isn’t a commonly known thing.” John stated rather than asked, the first calm thing he said since Harry had first arrived. 

“No, the Wizarding World is completely unknown to the Muggle World.” Harry replied.

“You keep using that word, ‘Muggle’. What is that?”

“Non-Magic folk, like yourself and Sam.” 

“So Sam isn’t…”

“I’m afraid not, no. We would know if he was.”

There were a few moments of silence. 

“I should be going, I’ve done my part in the offering of the scholarship and giving the necessary information as of right now.” Harry said, making his way to the door. “I will be back in a Month’s time to hear your final decision. And Dean,” Harry says, halfway out the door. Dean stared back at him intently. “This is ultimately your decision, not your fathers, not anybody’s. Only Yours. Remember that.”

And just like that, Harry potter was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’ll spare the young one’s life in return for one teeny, itsy bitsy little thing. - Azazel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look at that! Chapter two! I purposely didn't do my homework today so I could write this, so you guys better like it! 
> 
> (just kidding you're allowed to like and dislike whatever you want :D)
> 
> I'd like to thank you guys for this fic already getting over 100 hits and 7 kudos! That's very exciting to me, I didn't think i'd get that many in so short a time. Seriously, thank you!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Wist~

When Dean woke up the next morning, he was certain that the whole Wizard thing was just a dream. John was gone; a note on the fridge indicating where he had gone and when he'd be back. Sam was still asleep on his side of the bed, so Dean got up and started to prepare breakfast- eggs and toast, plain and simple.

Breakfast is just about done when Sam wakes up- the kid could sniff out a diner half asleep and a mile away- and his little brother rubs his eyes, plops himself at the tiny kitchen table, and allows his brother to push a plate full of scrambled eggs and toast toward him. Dean sits down across from him and starts devouring his own plate; and Sam, ever the little brother that he was, copies him by shoving more than a forkful of eggs in his own mouth than he should be able to handle.

There were a few moments of peaceful silence, Dean could forget about the weird dream he had last night and just focus on taking care of Sam. Everything was-

“So does this mean you're gonna go to Magic school?”

Dean choked on his eggs, bits of unchewed pieces being coughed back up onto his plate. He stared wide eyed at Sam and his brother stared right back at him, waiting for an answer.

“I uh-” Definitely not a dream, then. “I don’t know. Probably not, I mean...” Dean pushes his eggs around with his fork. “Who’s to say that I’m not a… whatever and this guy is just spinning yarn. Besides, I would  _ know _ if I was Magic, Sammy.”

Sam squinted his eyes. “Would you?”

  
Dean gave Sam a disgruntled expression. “You’re way too aware for an eight year old.”

“And you’re way too dumb for an eleven year old.” Sam retorted, and Dean kicked him from under the table. “OW! Hey!”

“Okay, let’s say it is true.” Dean shoved the remaining bits of toast in his mouth and chewed as he continued. “You really think Dad is gonna let me go? Remember last night when he said ‘We hunt shits like you’? There’s no way Dad would let me go off with a bunch of Magical Wizards to a school to learn Witchcraft.”

“But the man said that they weren’t like the ones Dad hunts!” Sam exclaimed, rising to his knees on his chair. “He said they were the good guys!”

  
Dean sighed. “Again, lets say that’s true. You think Dad would believe them anyway?”

Sam flopped back down in his seat, looking dejected. After a moment he says “So,  _ can _ you do Magic?”

Dean shakes his head. “No, not that I’ve noticed.”

“But Harry Potter asked last night if you’ve done something you couldn’t explain and you didn’t say anything.” Sam argued.

“That’s because there was nothing  _ to _ say.”

“You’re a dirty liar.” Sam scrunched up his nose and stuck his tongue out at his brother, which Dean would find cute in any other circumstance, but right now it was annoying.

“I’m not lying!”

“Are too.”

“Are not.”

“Are  _ too _ .”

  
“Are _ not _ !”

The brothers glared at each other for a few seconds before Dean finally cracked. “Fine.” He sighed, leaning back on his chair, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. “There might have been a few weird things. But I don’t really think that it has anything to do with Magic…”   


  
“Like what?” Sam insisted, looking at him with those damn puppy dog eyes.

“Like…” Dean groaned in frustration. “Like there was one time I might have started a fire with my mind…”

  
Sam gasped, the awe clear on his face. “Really!? Did you set something on fire?”

“No, it was just the stove fire. I couldn’t turn it on, and then suddenly it turned on without me touching it. It was probably just busted or something…”   


  
“Was there oil in the stove?” Sam asked, making Dean once again aware that Sam was way too sharp for his age. The kid is gonna be a lawyer one day, Dean just knew it. 

“...No.”

“Well then there’s no way the stove would have lit at all if there wasn’t any oil in it! It was  _ Magic Fire _ .” There was this giant grin on his face and Dean couldn’t help but smile too. “What else happened?” Sam then asked, sitting at the edge of his seat like Dean was this renowned storyteller.

“Well uh…” Dean hesitated. “Once a car was about to run me over, and just before it did, it disappeared.”

“Disappeared?” Sam asked, tilting his head in confusion. 

“I  _ may _ have saw on the News that the same car  _ may _ have crashed into a pole on Long Island.”   


  
“ _ LONG ISLAND _ ?” Sam shouted, bouncing up and down with excitement. “Dean! You made a car disappear to Long Island? That is so.  _ Wicked _ .” 

“Sam,” Dean tried to reason. “I’m telling you, it's all just a weird coincidence! I can't be Magic, the whole idea is just ridiculous.”

“People say the same thing about vampires.”

“Yeah but-”

“And werewolves”

“Yes-”

“And windogos.”

“But-”

“And Demons.”

“OKAY!” Dean shouts. “Enough already, I get it!” Dean crossed his arms in defiance, but knew Sam had a point. “It doesn't matter anyway, Dad would never let me go.”

Sam dropped the subject after that, much to Dean’s relief.

But later, he brought it back up again.

“Did you see what he had in his hand?”

Dean paused from tossing a bouncy ball back and forth against the wall. “What?”   


  
“Last night, with Harry Potter.” Sam explained. “He had the long stick-thing in his hand. He flicked it like  _ WHOOSH"  _ Sam mimicked Harry flicking his wrist. “And then Dad’s gun was across the room. Do you think that was Magic?”

“How am I supposed to know? I didn’t really see it.” Dean bounces the ball against the wall and catches it.

“Because you’re a Wizard, that’s why.” Sam was currently working on a rubix cube, face scrunched up in concentration.

“I told you, I’m not a Wizard.”

“Are too.”

“Are-” Dean stops himself. “I’m not doing this shit again.”

“Language, Dean.”

“ _ Language, Dean _ .” Dean Parrots, purposely making his voice sound stupid, because that’s how Sam sounded.

“You’re so immature.” Sam shoots him classic bitchface #3- his specialty. 

“Says the kid who replies arguments with ‘Are too’.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

So Sam jumped him and wrestled him to the ground. Dean gave out a startled cry but quickly fought back. There were lots of pushing and scratching, but Dean came out victorious in the end; though not without Sam blatantly ignoring him for the next two days. Dean bought him a lollipop as a peace offering and that was the end of that. But Sam didn’t bring up the Wizard thing for the next three days that Dad was gone. 

\--

When John came back- he had gotten a call from Bobby about a ghoul in the next town over- he didn’t bring up the Wizard thing at all. It was like the whole thing didn’t happen, and somehow that was even worse than Sam’s million’s of questions. 

John tells the boys the pack their things, saying that they are going over to Uncle Bobby’s for a while. That was completely fine with Dean; He loved his Dad and all, and he was a good parent when he was home. But that was just the problem, he was almost  _ never _ home. Bobby, however, was almost always home. He was the guy other Hunter’s call when they need info about ganking monsters and other things that go bump in the night, so the Hunting life rarely required him to leave the house unless it was something someone couldn’t handle or couldn’t figure out. 

The drive was relatively silent; Zeppelin the only sound breaking the quiet the entire drive to Sioux Falls. Dean didn’t dare ask any sort of questions about the whole Wizard thing lest he wanted to be wacked upside the head. 

Bobby was waiting outside on the porch when they arrive, and Sam practically stumbles out the car and tackles the man’s waist in a hug, shouting “Uncle Bobby!”.

Bobby chuckles. “Hey there, little sasquatch. Didn’t think it was possible for you to get any bigger, but yer ‘bout the size of a baby giraffe now. Yer Daddy feedin’ ya oats too?”   


  
Sam laughs delightedly, and Dean is next to give his Uncle a hug. “Hey, Bobby!”

“The hell you feedin’ these kids John? They keep getting bigger every time I see em’.” Bobby calls out to John, Who is taking three luggages out from the trunk.

“Or maybe you’re just gettin’ old.” John retorts, but there’s a big smile on his face. “How ya been, Bobby?” 

“Eh, can’t complain. I’m alive, aren’t I?” Bobby gives John a pat on the back and takes a suitcase from him.

“Ain’t that the truth.” John huffs out a laugh and follows Bobby inside. 

“Race you to the junkyard!” Dean pushes past Sam to the back door, and Sam chases after him shouting “You jerk!”.

\--

Hours pass, and Dean’s starting to feel hungry. Him and Sam spent almost the whole day playing war, using the broken down and rusted, unused cars as fortresses and shooting each other with invisible guns. Dean may have gotten carried away and threw a rock at Sam’s head, but Sam threw the rock back even harder and Dean called it even, if the giant welt on his back was anything to prove. 

Both Dean and Sam, sweaty from their adventures in the junkyard, make their way back inside looking for dinner. 

“Do you think Uncle Bobby will make hamburgers?” Sam asks, waiting patiently as Dean pours himself and Sam a glass of lemonade. 

“I’ll go ask.” Says Dean, drooling at the idea of hamburgers as well. He hands Sam’s glass to him and then makes his way into the library where he assumes his Dad and Uncle would be. He can hear muffled voices through the door and is about to open it when he hears “So he said Dean was a Wizard?”

Dean froze, hand clenched on the doorknob.

“Something nonsensical like that, yes.” John replies, and Dean can hear the swish of liquid and can only assume John just took a mouthful of whiskey or fireball- either one was probable. 

“You’re saying you don’t believe him?” 

“...I don’t know.”

“This ‘file’ on Mary looks legit. Though why its written on parchment paper, I haven’t got a rats clue.” There was a moment of silence, then “You gonna send him to that school, then?”

Even through the door, Dean could tell John was angry. “Why in the hell would I send Dean to a school to teach him Witchcraft when I’m the one who hunts people like those.” 

“This ‘Harry Potter’ fellow said they weren’t bad guys though, didn’t he?”

“You expect me to believe some random brit who broke into my hotel room and tossed my gun across the room with nothing but a fucking stick? These people are freaks, if you ask me. No better than monsters.”

“So, you think Dean’s a monster?”

 

“...”   


  
“Or Mary?”

Dean couldn’t help the gasp that escaped his throat. Talking about Mom was not a bone pick.

“Dean is not Magic, and neither was Mary.” John’s voice was strained, as if he didn't believe it himslef.

Dean didn’t stick around to hear the rest of the conversation. He makes his way back to the kitchen pulls back a chair, sits, and puts his head down on his arms.

“Did you ask if we can have burgers?” Sam asks, all innocent.

Dean just groaned, not giving Sam further explanation. 

Thankfully, Sam didn’t push. 

\--

Dean was woken up later that night by a huge crash from downstairs. 

He jolts up from the bed, dread flooding his system when he sees that Sam isn’t in the bed next to him. He quickly pushes himself off the bed and runs to the staircase, feeling even more petrified when he sees what had made the noise.

A vase had fallen to the ground where Bobby had been thrown into the bookshelf, books scattered all around him. There was a large gash on his head and blood was flowing freely from it. Not that far away stood a man Dean had never seen before, and clutched in his grip is a terrified looking Sam. The man looks behind him at Dean, his eyes glowing bright yellow.

“Hey! You demon bitch!” Yells John from across the room, a bottle of holy water in his hand. “Hope you like burning!” And with that John chucks the entire bottle at the demon and it shatters directly on his face. The Demon hisses loudly in pain and loses his grip on Sam.

“Sam!” Dean calls out and Sam exclaims “Dean!” and runs straight for him. Dean grabs him and pulls his baby brother behind him.

The Demon’s hissing starts to die down and turns into a low chuckle. “What pretty boys you have there, John.” The Demon coos. “The elder looks just like his mother.” He makes eye contact with Dean. “I wonder if they’ll look even more alike with blood on his face.”

Several shots rang out, John had pulled out a gun and started firing at the Demon, who had stumbled back a little but seemed hardly phased. 

“Ow!” He cried with false sincerity. “That stings! Don’t you know you have to be careful with those things? You could hurt someone.” The Demon begins to laugh but is interrupted when John shoots him several more times, causing the Demon to fall to the ground. 

But the Demon gets back up easily. “Now, John. Don’t be so spiteful.” He says as if scolding a child. “It was  _ so long _ ago when I killed your wife and burned her on the ceiling; It was her fault for accepting my deal, after all. She could have easily just let you die, but she made her decision and she paid the price five years later. Can’t we just let bygones be bygones?”

John practically growled as he took out his knife and threw it as hard as he could. The knife plunges deep into the Demon’s eye socket, but just like the bullets he takes it in stride. “You hunt me for seven years and this is all you could muster up to kill me? It’s quite Pathetic.”   


  
“Azazel, you bastard.” John spits. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Azazel cocks his head, giving John a fake confused look. “I thought you were looking for me.” He reaches for the knife and slides it out from his socket, the blade slicked in dark red. “When I was told that bitch I killed from seven years ago had a husband who was looking to kill me? Why, I just thought I’d pass right on through and let you try. Sorry for my tardiness, it being seven years and all, but a guy like me is too busy reaping souls to hell.” 

Azazel then, with supernatural speed, knocks John to the floor with a blow to the head by the blunt of the knife. John falls to the floor with a grunt. 

“DAD!” Dean cries, but then Azazel places his foot on John’s head and pushes down, causing John to gasp in pain.

“Lets see, what to do with you…” Azazel’s eyes meet Dean’s once more and flashes the children with a vile grin. “Mind if I borrow your brother for a bit, kid.” He says, and flicks his wrist upward and suddenly Sam lifts off the ground and is forcefully levitated back to Azazel. 

“SAM! NO!” Dean can feel his heart in his throat, his body pumping with fear and anger.

Azazel grabs Sam by the scruff of his shirt as the younger brother struggles and sneers at John. “How about we make a deal.” He purrs.

Dean was so angry he could feel his whole being practically vibrating. He could feel the air in the room shift, but all he could think about was saving Sam. How was he gonna save Sam?   
  


“I’ll spare the young one’s life in return for one teeny, itsy bitsy little thing.”   
  
The vibrating his his body started to thrum more intensely. There was a sort of breeze seeming to emanate from around him. His entire focus was on Sam, and the petrified look on his face as he struggled and whimpered.

“I’ll think your  _ soul _ as a price would be acceptable, don’t you agree?”

The room began to grow brighter, and it took Dean a moment to realize that it was coming from him. The thrumming in his body was coursing through his veins, a strange power that was foreign and yet familiar at the same time. It was warm, but electric. Literally, electric. There were sparks zapping around him like a mini stormcloud, and the angrier he got, the more potent the sparks became.

“Whadd’ya say, Johnny boy? Do we have a deal?”

John looked up at him with hatred in his eyes. “I-”

“NO!” Dean screeched, and suddenly the power within him was pushed outwards. The invisible force barreled straight into Azazel and the Demon was flown across the room with a mighty force, causing him to drop Sam. Sam fell to the floor but was too stunned to move, staring at Dean with wide eyes.

But Dean’s entire focus was on Azazel. He stomps his way toward him and stops just a foot away.

Azazel looked startled, not having expected to be thrown across the room like that. “What-” Dean thinks about how much he wants to shove holy water down this bastard’s throat, and suddenly Azazel is crying out in pain, emanating a weird gurgling noise from his throat as he holds his neck in his hands. After a few moments of the Demon spluttering out water, he goes “What  _ are _ you!?”

“I’m the kid who’s about to send your ass back to hell and  _ keep _ you there.” Dean states. He grabs Azazel by the scruff of his collar, bringing his face mere inches from his own. “This is for hurting my family, hurting my brother, and  _ killing my Mom _ !” Dean drops him and imagines the Demon’s entire body being filled with holy water, watching in satisfaction as Azazel writhes in pain. “Say hi to Hitler for me.” Dean says, and with the power still fluttering around him like a cloud, he taps into that power and the light becomes blindingly bright. Dean wraps that power around Azazel, the light warping around him and distorting his figure. There was a flash a bright light, and Azazel was gone. Dean had thrown his soul deep into hell.

The threat was gone, and the power around him was beginning to fade. Dean took a moment to absorb what just happened. But as his power faded he suddenly felt light-headed, like using the power had drained a lot out of him. He started to see spots and soon the room faded to black.

\--

This time, when Dean woke up, his head was pounding and the sun was shining bright through his window. He groaned in pain and pinched the bridge of his nose. Forcing himself to slide off the bed and stand, Dean stumbled his way to the bathroom and washed his face with cold water.

Finally, after feeling only a little bit better, Dean slowly trumps down the stairs. He finds his brother, Dad, and Bobby all in the kitchen. Sam was gorging himself on some toaster waffles while his Dad and Uncle both had cups of coffee in their hands. 

He enters the kitchen and groggily says “Good Morning.” 

He stops halfway when everyone turns their head sharply and stares at him like they had seen a ghost.

There was a few awkward moments of silence before Dean says warily “Why y’all starin’ at me like that? Did I do something?”

Bobby snorts and says “I’ll say.” John shoots him a look and Bobby shrugs.

John sighs and turns his attention toward his son. “Dean,” He says softly, almost tip toeing around his words. “Do you remember what happened last night?”

Dean thinks for a moment, but his brain is fuzzy. “Uh… No?” He says, unsure.

“Nothing at all?”

Dean’s brow creased in thought. “Erm, I don’t-” 

And suddenly, it hits him.

The crash. Bobby on the floor. Azazel having Sam. John trying to fight. The deal he tried to make. The thrumming in his body. White light. Sending Azazel to hell…

It all came back to him and Dean almost fell to the floor with the sudden flood of memories. “I-” Dean attempted to say words but nothing was coming out. He kept look at his father and Bobby, both with unreadable faces.

“Was that…” Dean almost didn’t want to say it. “Did I use Magic?” He asks, tentatively. 

“You were  _ AWESOME _ !” Sam exclaims, rising from his seat and slightly startling all of them. “You were all  _ WHOOSH _ and he was all  _ AHHHH  _ and you were like  _ FWOOOO FWOOOO _ and ‘ _ Go back to hell _ _!_ ’ and he was all  _ WHAAAAAAAAT _ . And then he disappeared like _ZOOP_ and then you passed out on the floor! It was SO COOL” Sam told his story by using exasperated hand movements, his eyes were bright and beaming with awe.

“I think what Stephen King here is trying to say,” Bobby says. “Is yeah, I think we can all safely say that that was definitely Magic you were doing there, boy.”

Dean tries to process this. He could still feel the thrumming in his fingertips, the electricity sparking over his skin.

He’s a fucking Wizard.

He looks at his Dad, trying to see what his reaction would be. He stands, and Dean almost quivers in his socks. Shit, what was his Dad gonna do? Hit him? Cast him away? Where would he go? What would-

Dean flinches as his father places a hand on his shoulder, and says the last thing he expected.

“Son, You’re going to Magic school.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "But,” John says with a small sigh. “it’s up to you, Dean." - John

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Were on a roll guys! Chapter 3!
> 
> Still haven't even touched my homework. I love college :)
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy this chapter, its not very eventful but a necessary for story development! I promise the Magic stuff starts next chapter!
> 
> Also thank you guys for 200+ reads! Def pushes me to write more! You're all awesome!
> 
> Happy Reading >3<
> 
> ~Wist

During the month before Harry Potter arrived, Dean spent the time contemplating this whole Magic thing, and the fact that he might go away to school to learn how to use it. His father had told him that while he was willing to let Dean learn how to control and use his magic, he was still wary about him going to this strange new school that he knows nothing about, and might feel more comfortable just finding a private tutor somewhere. 

Would Dean even want to go away to school? If he went away, he wouldn’t be there for Sam anymore; at least for long extended periods of time. And he would definitely be behind on his hunting lessons, no more being taught how to hold a gun or track- John had told Dean that he was a natural born tracker, much to Dean’s pleasure. 

So no more hunting, no more taking care of Sam. It should be the kind of life he always wanted, almost normal save for the whole Magic thing, but somehow Dean didn’t really like the prospect of it so much. He was starting to think that maybe a tutor would be a good idea, so he can learn about Magic and be with his brother, and learn how to hunt as well.

But then he thought about his Mom. Harry potter said that Hogwarts was an experience that shouldn’t be taken away, and he thought that Mom probably had a great experience in Magic School too. Part of him wants to follow in his late mother’s footsteps; he already cherishes the fact that he had gotten her Magic abilities, and going to Hogwarts or Ilvermorny would only strengthen the faded bond between him and Mary. 

It wasn’t an easy decision, but his Dad had said when Harry Potter comes back to recieve their answer to the scholarship, he was gonna ask if he could see the school or talk to more people from the Hogwarts administration and find out more details about what going to this school would entail; meaning John was going to figure out if Dean should go to school or not. Either way, Dean would get more clarity about what he wanted to do soon.

Other things happened as well during the month, like an Owl coming to their window and knocking on it like a person would if they wanted to come in. John was outside tweaking Baby’s engine, and Dean, Sam, and Bobby were hanging out in the kitchen. When the Owl knocked on the glass, Bobby tried to shoo it away without opening the window, muttering something along the lines of “Damn pests, when did we start getting Owls?”.

Sam then says “He wants to come in!” And before anyone could stop him, Sam opens the window and the bird hops right on in. Bobby is in the middle of saying “The hell are you doing, kid?” When he notices two letters attached to its talon.

Bobby and the kids had no idea what to do at first, until the Owl lifts up it’s claw, indicating that it wants them to take the letters. Sam, fascinated by this whole exchange, unties the letters from its foot and takes them. 

The Owl still didn’t leave, looking at them all as if expecting something. Dean jokingly says “What do you want, A tip?” And as he says it, a lightbulb goes off in his head. He heads for the cabinet to see what kind of snacks an Owl might like. He settles on a cheese puff and hands it to the bird, it snatches it up greedily in its mandible and takes off out the window.

Sam, who had been holding the letters, hands them to Dean and says “They’re for you.”

Dean takes them hesitantly, reading the writing on the back. One envelope is made from old parchment paper, return address reading ‘Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry’. The other, made from more modern paper, reading ‘Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry’. Dean opens the Hogwarts one first, and reads it out loud.

 

_ Dear Mr. Dean Winchester, _

_ We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at  _ [ _ Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry _ ](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Hogwarts_School_of_Witchcraft_and_Wizardry) _. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. _

_ Term begins on  _ [ _ 1 September _ ](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/1_September) _. We await your owl by no later than  _ [ _ 31 July _ ](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/31_July) _. _

_ Yours sincerely, _

_ Minerva McGonagall _

_ Headmistress _

 

Dean takes a moment to briefly look at the supplies list, notices that there is also a second letter that explains in detail the scholarship for American students, then moves on to the second letter.

 

**_Dean Winchester,_ **

**_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Ilvermorny [School of Witchcraft and Wizardry](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Hogwarts_School_of_Witchcraft_and_Wizardry). You will find a list of all necessary books and equipment within this letter._ **

**_Term begins on August 31st_ _._ _Please return this letter with your acceptance via Owl or by Mail, if you choose to attend, by no later than July 31st._ **

**_Signed,_ **

**_Headmaster Agilbert Fontaine_ **

 

Dean studies both letters before folding them back up. 

“Guess it’s good to have options.” Bobby comments.”You should give those to your Dad when he comes in.”   
  
“Uh,” Sam says, looking at Dean and Bobby with a slightly exasperated expression. “Is no one gonna talk about the mailman owl?”

Both Dean and Bobby laugh.

Later that same week, Bobby got a tip that there was a possible poltergeist haunting a museum in Sioux Falls, and John offers to check it out. Bobby and the boys were in the study; Bobby doing research at his desk, and Dean sitting on the floor with Sam as his little brother plays with some toy model cars. 

“Dean,” Sam says in that voice Dean knew when he was going to ask for something Dean would object to. “Can I play with the Impala one for a bit?”

“No.” Dean responds curtly. 

“But Deeeeeeeean.” Sam whines, throwing him those damn puppy dog eyes again. “You  _ never _ let me play with that one!”

“You can play with any of the cars but that one.” Dean had said, toy balancing on his lap. “I don’t want you scratching it up.”

“I won’t, I Promise!” Sam tried to reason, but Dean was having none of it.

“No. Sorry Sam.”

Sam pouts at him for a few seconds, then swipes the toy car from his lap and starts running around the room with it.

“SAM!” Dean shouts, chasing after his brother up and down the study. 

“You can’t catch me!” Sam sing-songs, holding the toy car as far away from Dean as possible. 

Dean stops chasing his brother, practically out of breath.

Sam responds by blowing a raspberry in Dean’s direction.

Anger boils within Dean and he shouts “Give it  _ BACK _ !” And along with those words came a subtle earthquake that shook the room, and several books flew from their spots on the shelves across the room and slammed against the opposite walls, as well as a miniature glass statue that went crashing to the floor.

Everyone stood silent for a moment, then Bobby says “Thank god, I hated that freaking ceramic cat. Sam, give Dean back the car before he starts making magnitude fucking 8 earthquakes. Dean, control your temper.”

“Yes, Uncle Bobby…” The boys say in unison. 

\--

True to his word, Harry comes back exactly a month later. Though this time he seemed to have the courtesy to knock on the door. How Harry seemed to know where the Winchesters were was beyond Dean, though he supposed it had something to do with Magic yet again.

John answers the door and lets him in, inviting him to sit at the kitchen table. Sam and Dean are in the next room over, but they are able to hear the conversation pretty clearly.

“Before I tell you whether I want Dean to go to school or not,” John says. “I want to ask you some questions ‘bout what exactly this whole school thing will involve”

Harry takes a sip of the Coffee that Bobby offered him. “Of course, that’s why I volunteered to do this.”

“Volunteered what exactly?” John asks curiously. 

“Usually with muggle-born children or with children who were never told about their Magical abilities, the children or more commonly, the parents, have a hard time processing it; much like you and your son. We send letters to those who are already aware, but with those who aren’t we send professors or other administration staff to give the message, we then send the Owl just as a written down invitation and so you have a copy of the supplies needed for school.”

“Makes sense, I suppose I would have just thrown out the letter if you were to have sent me that instead of coming yourself.” John states.

Harry nods his head. “And I volunteered to be the one to invite the first American transfer of this year to Hogwarts.”

“Dean’s the first?” John questions.

“Of this year, yes." Harry corrects. "There were two others with late birthdays that we invited at the end of last year, those who turn eleven after July 31st are asked to join the school the following year. The others haven’t turned eleven yet.”

“So you start Magic school when you turn eleven?”

“Yes.” Harry confirms. 

John hums. “You say you’re a professor, right?” 

“Correct.” Harry confirms again with a single nod of his head.

“What do ya teach?”

“Defense against the Dark Arts.”

“What is that, exactly?” John asks in a slightly condescending tone, oviously still skeptical.

“I teach students how to protect themselves from Dark Magic and Creatures.”

“What’s the difference between Dark Magic and regular Magic?”   
  
“The Dark Arts is a form of Magic that is mainly used to conflict harm, control, or even death to others; We do not teach children to use it, only to defend themselves from it.”

Harry goes on to explain the other things Dean will learn, but Dean was having trouble keeping up with all of it. The professor went on about Charms, Transfiguration, History of Magic, Potions, Alchemy, Divination, and by the end of it Dean’s head was whirling.

Both Sam and Dean jump when John suddenly enters the room, unaware that the two adults had even stopped talking. “Dean, I want you to come in the kitchen with us for a moment.”

“Yes, Sir.” Dean responds immediately, and gives Sam one last worrying glance before following his father into the kitchen. 

Harry smiles at him when he walks into the kitchen. “Hello again, Dean.”

“Erm,” Dean stutters. “Hi.”

“Alright, Son.” Says John, giving Dean a serious look. “After talking with  _ Professor Potter _ , I’ve decided that maybe you going to school would be the best thing.” Bobby nods his head in agreement from his place leaning against the fridge, Dean had forgotten he was there. “Though, even with the very generous scholarship Hogwarts is offering, I’d feel better if you went to Ilvermorny. That way you’re not in a completely other country and with kids at least from the same continent as you. And since your Mother went there too there would be teachers that knew her and could help you adjust.

“But,” John says with a small sigh. “it’s up to you, Dean. I heavily suggest you either go to school here or at least get tutored, but you’re gonna need to decide this on your own.”

The air suddenly feeling very heavy and Dean’s shirt feels way too tight.

“So?” John presses. Dean looks from his Dad to Harry, who is giving him a patient, knowing look.

He wants to go to Ilvermorny, he  _ should _ go to Ilvermorny. It was just the most logical answer, and why shouldn’t he go to the same school his Mom went? Didn’t he say he wanted to follow in her footsteps? Certainly going to Ilvermorny would ensure that. It should be such an easy answer.

And yet, there’s something in him that’s questioning that decision; a deeper, more prominent part of him that is telling him to  _ go to Hogwarts. _ Was he to trust this thought nagging in his skull? Dean couldn’t explain it, but he felt that this whole scholarship thing was some sort of sign, he could just  _ sense it _ . It didn’t make any sense, but then again neither did this whole situation. He was going to learn Magic, for christ’s sake.

“I-” Dean begins but then falters. He doesn’t want to burden his Dad by making the more difficult decision. But then he remembers Harry’s words. 

_ This is ultimately your decision, not your fathers, not anybody’s. Only Yours. Remember that. _

With that in mind, and hoping his father doesn’t skin him alive for this, he decides.

“I want to go to Hogwarts.” Dean states, almost confident.

John’s eyes widen in surprise. “Are you sure about that Dean? You would be in a much more foreign area than you would be at Ilvermorny, I get with the Scholarship it’d be cheaper but…”

Dean shakes his head. “I want to go to Hogwarts.” He says again, this time with more certainty. He can see Harry Potter grinning, and Bobby is smiling ever so slightly from behind them.

John scratches his head and furrows his brow. “Well, if you’re so sure, then…” He clears his throat. “Okay, Hogwarts it is.”

Harry stands up from his chair. “It’s settled then. I’ll assign another volunteer to assist you in getting your supplies. Please keep your days in March open, I will send an Owl giving a specific date within the week.” Harry throws his scarf that he had removed when he came inside back around his neck. He grins at Dean again.  “You’re going to  _ love _ Diagon Alley.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to start the Diagon Alley adventure in this chapter but then this chapter would be way too long so I decided to just make it it's own chapter! 
> 
> See you all next chapter ;)
> 
> Wist~


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wait, what war? - Dean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone!
> 
> Sorry for the delay on this chapter, its close to the end of the semester for me and I've just been swamped with work. I really enjoyed writing this chapter, however, and hope you guys enjoy reading it!
> 
> Thank you for your patience.
> 
> Wist~

Practically everyone in the room yelps when the old, unused fireplace starts to rumble and cough out green fire. Both Bobby and John whip out their guns without even thinking. Before anyone could even begin to question what was happening, an extremely large man with a long, curly beard and hair to match stumbles out from the fireplace. He coughs a little, clears his throat, and says “Sorry ‘bout tha’.” in a thick west country british accent. “Havn’ traveled by floo in quite some time; a bit rough roun’ the edges, but I’ll get there.” The heavyset man regards the startled Winchesters- and Bobby- in the room. “Which one of you is Dean?”

There were a few moments of silent staring before Dean raises his hand warily. “Erm, t-thats me.”

A large grin grows on the giant’s face. “Well, look a’ wot we got here!” His voice was loud and boisterous. “Strappin’ young lad, aren’ yeh?” He stomps over and pats Dean on the back, Dean almost falling over from the sheer force of it. The large man then extends his hand towards Dean and says “The name’s Rubius Hagrid, Care of Magical Creatures Professor a’ good ol’ Hogwarts.” Dean takes his hand and again almost topples over when he shakes practically his entire arm. “I’ll be helpin’ yeh out in gettin’ yer supplies, show ya how ter get ter the train, all tha’ good stuff!” Hagrid is still shaking Dean’s hand violently and he feels the sudden urge to vomit.

“Is it...custom for Wizards to burst out of fireplaces?” John asks, dubiously eyeing Hagrid up and down more out of habit than anything.

Hagrid turns to him. “Well, not all the time, but the Ministry connected yer fireplace temporarily ‘cause it’d be easier than by broom an’ I’m no good at Apparation.” Before John could ask what the hell that all meant, Hagrid turns back to Dean. “You ready ter set out for Diagon Alley?”

Dean was nervous, but smiled anyway. “Uh, sure?”

Hagrid regards both John and Bobby. “Are both of ya commin’ or jus’ one?”

Bobby shakes his head and snorts. “Yeah uh, you all go without me. I think I’ll stay here and transcribe some Gaelish or something.”

John shrugs. “I’m the Dad, so I don’t really have a choice.”

“OH OH!” Sam raises his hand and jumps up and down to get Hagrid’s attention. “Can I come! Pleeeeeeeeeease!” And of course he throws those damn puppy eyes at him and Dean would be impressed if Hagrid told him no; it was rare if Sam was told no after giving them the puppy eyes.

But Hagrid only beamed at the floppy-haired seven year old. “Don’ see why not! Welcome aboard, kid.” He reaches down and ruffle Sam’s hair, which at any time would have made Sam squirm but he accepted it with vehement pride. “You lot ready ter go?”

“Are we using the fireplace?” Dean couldn’t help but ask, just a tad bit excited.

“Ain’ no better way!” Hagrid said, pulling a little pouch from his pocket. “Until yeh learn Apparation, that is. Now, I gotta warn you lot, travelin’ by Floo isn’ very… comfortable, to put it tha’ way. It’s wobbly an kinda makes yeh sick. But you’ll get used to it eventually. Hold ou’ yer hand, now.” He says to Dean, and Hagrid pours a pile of powdery ash in his hand. “Let me demonstrate before you go in yerself.”

Hagrid steps into the fireplace, raises his imaginary powder in his hand, and exclaims in a loud, clear voice “Diagon Alley!” And throws the invisible powder at his feat. “Remember ter be _ absolutely _ clear, or else yer gonna end up somewhere you don’t know. Ya won’ believe how many times in Wizarding history there ‘ave been all sorts o’ accidents an’ the like.” Hagrid steps out from the fireplace and gestures for Dean to step in. “Af’er you.” He says with bright smile.

Dean clutches the powder in his hand and swallows. “W-wait, like, by myself?” Dean asks, incredulous.

“Ain’ no other way ter learn.” Hagrid says with a single nod of his head.

Dean eyes the fireplace warily and reluctantly steps inside. His Dad and Bobby look equally concerned. His father speaks up. “Are you sure this is safe?”

“Oh, sure!” Hagrid reassures. “The Floo Network is completely safe.” He then places his hand on his chin and says “Though, if I do remember righ’, Harry ended up coughin’ on some ash and messin’ it up his first time tryin’ the Floo; ended up in the forbidden part of Diagon Alley, Knockturn Alley, bu’ luckily I foun’ ‘im safe an’ sound!”

“That doesn’t reassure me.” John mumbles, but Hagrid didn’t seem to hear him anyway.

“Alrigh’, Dean, go ahead, jus’ like I taught yeh.” Hagrid says with a wave of his hand.

Dean looks down at the powder in his hand, at his Dad and Bobby’s worried expressions, and then at Sam’s fascinated one. 

Dean takes a deep breath in and out, careful not to breath in any ash and says. “Well, here it goes.” With false confidence he raises his hand and says “Diagon Alley!”. Then throws the power on the ash covered floor.

\--

There was a flash of green fire and Dean wanted to yelp but he was suddenly being whisked away in a whirlpool of sickening green, the world around him vanished and he was spinning and spinning and spinning and everything was green and Dean was definitely about to throw up. 

And then he falls to the ground and the green suddenly disappears.

Dean groans and tries to sit up. His head is still spinning and he definitely feels sick, but the floor feels solid under his hands and that helps steady him. His head stops spinning long enough for Dean to finally be aware of his surroundings.

A small gasp escapes his throat.

A town laid before him, but it was certainly no ordinary town. Shops lined down on either side of the cobblestone path, bustling with people and creatures of all kinds; men and women of all ages in long, colorful robes and pointy hats, people flying above them on brooms, children running up and down the street throwing strange looking balls that turned the others hair pink, Cats roaming the street and Owls perched atop every other building; it was absolutely nothing like Dean had ever seen, and his Dad was a _ hunter _ .

“Alrigh’ there, Dean?”

Dean whirls around from where he still sat on the floor. Hagrid, along with a very green looking John Winchester and wobbly Sam, stood behind him. There were a row of fireplaces, and Dean watched as another Wizard appeared out of one in a haze of green fire and made his way down the road.

“Wicked.” Dean breathed, standing up on two legs.

Hagrid chuckled heartily. “An’ tha’s jus’ some of it, wait until yeh see Hogwarts.” Hagrid starts trekking along the cobblestone street and the Winchesters follow closely behind. Sam grips Dean’s hand and Dean lets him, grinning at the wide eyed wonder on his little brothers face as he passed by a couple of Witches brewing something in a large black cauldron.

“Firs’ things firs’.” Hagrid says. “We gotta get yeh some money.”

“I have my wallet-”

“No, that won’ do. Yer money’s no good here.” Hagrid interrupts as John begins to pull out his wallet. “Harry tells me yer Mother left yeh some, fer Dean specifically.”

Dean perked up at that. “Mom left me something?”

“Sure did.” Hagrid smiled. “Transferred jus’ the other day ter Gringotts- tha’s our bank here- wanted yeh ter use it fer school.”

“How come I didn’t know about this?” John didn’t sound angry, just confused.

“Probably ‘cause yeh wouldn’ have no use for it, with you bein’ a muggle an’ all.”

John only nodded.

When they reached a tall white marble building- so different in contrast to the other shops- Sam let out a small excited squeak. “Dean, look! I think it’s a Dwarf!”

Sure enough, standing right at the entrance bowing at people as they walked in, was an extremely short man with a long pointed nose and very long fingers and toes.

“Almost righ’,” Comments Hagrid. “They’re Goblins, actually. Don’ be callin’ them Dwarfs, they get offended by tha’.”

Dean stared at the rows of Goblins sat at their desks when they walked in, and watched as Hagrid went to one of them, placed a small black key down, and then suddenly they were being led to the back of the building down a dark stone hallway. 

They all clambered into the cart that they apparently had to use to get to the safe, and at first Dean didn’t think they would all be able to fit with how small the cart looked. But somehow they fit perfectly, as if the cart had magically expanded.

Dean could tell Hagrid did not like the ride very much, with the fact that he looked greener than his Dad looked coming out of the Floo. He clambered out and took a few hiccuping breaths. When Hagrid had finally gained his composure, the Goblin unlocked the door with the key that Hagrid gave him.

Dean tried not to let his jaw drop at the sight of all the gold.

There were piles of it; gold, silver, and copper coins stacked neatly on the floor and table. There were also books, a cauldron, a set of phials and brass scales, a telescope, and a small rectangular box.

“Would’ya look a’ tha’ telescope!” Exclaimed Hagrid, inspecting it for any damages. “I reckon yeh could use this for school. Not so sure abou’ the books and other supplies, that cauldron’s got a crack in it an’ half those phials and scales are broken, an’ the books are Ilvermorny edition or outdated. Yer no’ allowed yer own broom during yer firs’ year either, bu’ yer welcome ter take it all home, anyhow.”

Dean walks over to the box and opens it. Inside is a stick-looking thing with an embroidered handle, made of some sort of white wood.

“Must’a been yer Mum’s Wand.” Hagrid comments at Dean’s confused expression. “I dunno much ‘bout Wands, but I know Aspen when I see it. She must o’ had a talent fer Charms; I hear those Wands are good fer tha’.”

“What’s Aspen?” Dean asks, turning his furrowing brow to Hagrid.

“Is’a type o’ wood, Wand’s are made ou’ o’ lots of different types o’ wood. You can tell a lot ‘bout a Witch or Wizard by what their Wand is made of.” Hagrid explains.

Dean look back at the wand with new found fascination.

With a bag full of gold coins, an explanation of how the currency works in the Wizarding world, and a Goblin agreeing to transport the rest of the items back to their house- what Dean would give for the look on Bobby’s face when there was suddenly a cauldron in his living room- they exit Gringotts and make their way to the next destination- school uniforms.

Upon entering the shop, a woman sorting through clothes in the back of the store notices Dean and calls “Hogwarts, Dear? Go stand on the stool right over there next to the other Hogwarts girl.”

Dean does as he’s told, standing alongside the other girl getting measured. She had short, dark hair and dark eyes, small in stature but had this sort of sober composure that told Dean she was more than she appeared. The girl eyed him up and down and said “American transfer?”.

“How'd ya know?” Dean asked, surprised. 

“I’m just smart like that.” She answered with a cat-like grin. “I’m Meg. Meg Masters.” Meg introduces herself and reaches out to shake Dean’s hand. “I’m a transfer too; my parents were over the moon when I got my invitation to the best Wizarding school in all of Europe. Or that’s their opinion, at least.”

“What makes it so special?” Asked Dean. He knew Hogwarts was a good school- from what he heard- but he didn’t really know why.

“Well, first of all it’s where the Battle of Hogwarts happened.” Meg said, watching as the seamstress began to cut the length of her robes shorter. “It’s also where  _ the _ Harry Potter went to school; parents are practically throwing their kids at the administration to get them in nowadays. If the school wasn’t held at high standards before the war, it certainly is now.”

“Wait, what war? And do you mean Professor Potter?” Dean inquired, trying to picture the messy haired, four eyed teacher as a famous figure.

“Y’know, the war against Voldemort?” As she said the name, the seamstress accidently poked Meg’s leg with a needle and mumbled “Sorry, Dear. Still not used to that name.” 

“Who’s Voldemort?” The seamstress had a look on her face like she had just swallowed a whole lemon.

“Oh, sorry.” Meg said. “You’re muggleborn, aren’t you?”

“I uh, don’t know what that means but my mom was a Witch, she died before she could tell me.”

“Muggleborn means you were born with parents who aren’t magic. Usually muggleborns have no idea the Wizarding world exists until they get their school letter.” Meg explained.

“Oh, okay. That makes sense. So, what happened during the War?” Dean was keen to find out. A Wizard War sounded pretty awesome.

“Well, long story short there was this Dark Wizard- that's Voldemort- who wanted to take over and wipe out all muggles and non-pureblood witches and wizards, though mainly he just wanted power over the world. No one could stop him until Harry Potter killed him and it’s been peaceful ever since.”

“Professor Potter killed him?” Dean gasped. He kept trying to picture Potter standing up to this powerful Wizard, fighting for the freedom of the Wizarding World. 

“How do you already know him? Meg asked skeptically.

“He’s the one who told me I was a wizard.” Dean answered with a grin, feeling a little cocky that he had been the one to meet Harry potter. “I didn’t know he was famous, though.”

“Pft, whatever.” Meg said indignantly, but her cocky smile matched Dean’s. “I’ll meet him too, y’know. He’s the Defense against the Dark Arts teacher, after all.”

Dean laughed. “Yeah, you think he’s any good?”

“He defeated  _ The Dark Lord, _ of course he’s good.” Meg rolled her eyes. Then she looked at Dean and said “You never told me your name by the way, you hiding something?”

“Oops, sorry.” Dean gave an apologetic smile. “I’m Dean, Dean Winchester.”

“Nice to meet you..” Then, the Witch that had been adjusting her robes said “You're done, Sweetums.” And Meg hopped off the stool and flashed a grin at Dean as she walked away. “Smell ya later, Winchester.”

“See ya later.” Dean called back. 

He liked Meg. Hopefully he would see her at school.

\--

After they had gotten a new set of scales, phials, text books, and a cauldron, their next stop was Wands. Dean was excited for this one; his very own wand so he can properly use magic! He couldn’t  _ wait _ to get his hands on one.

Dean ran a little ahead of the group and pushed open the doors to Ollivanders Wand shop. The inside looked almost like a library, only the shelves were stacked with rectangular boxes. After a few seconds of looking around, an old man made his way from the back of the shop, a large, excited smile plastered on his face when he saw Dean. 

“Welcome!” He greeted warmly. “Welcome indeed, young man. Here for your first wand, I presume?” 

Dean nodded his head fervently and the old man laughed. “Eager, I see. I like that. The name’s Ollivander, and I’ll be happy to find you a wand; in fact…” Ollivander turns and sorts through the shelves. “I have _ just _ the one.”

Hagrid, his father, and Sam come into the shop finally and Sam trots over to Dean and asks “Did you get it yet?”

“He’s looking now.” Dean tells him excitedly. 

“Alright, Ollivander?” Hagrid calls, and Ollivander calls back but he’s so far back Dean didn’t catch it.

Ollivander came back, holding a small black rectangular box and lifted the lid, handing it to Dean. “Here you are, I believe this Wand will be to your liking.”

Dean lifts the wand from the box. Immediately, he felt his fingers tingle around his grip on the wand, a warm feeling flushed through him, and there was a billowing of wind that seemed to emanate from him, a soft glow growing brighter around him. The light flashed and then it was gone, leaving behind only the tingling in his fingers. It was almost as if the wand had said “Yes, you'll do.”. 

Ollivander smiled triumphantly. “Yes, yes. Blackthorn, Dragon Heartstring core, ten inches in length, slightly flexible. A perfect fit.” 

“I can't help but feel that I am so out of my league with all this…” John commented, staring at his son with new found exasperation. “And I’m a hunter, for god sake…”

Hagrid chuckled. “Don’ worry, you’ll ge’ used ter it.” And patted him hard on the back. John stumbled only a little.

Dean walked out of Ollivanders with the box that held his wand closely to his chest.

\--

Their last stop for the day was the pet shop. Hagrid said they needed an owl if they wanted to be able to get a hold of Dean at all during his year at Hogwarts, as well as it was the main source of communication in the magical world and was just as necessary as a telephone. John had tried to ask if he could give Dean a track phone to bring with him instead, but Hagrid explained that technology doesn't work in the Magic World; the constant buzz of Magic in the air messes with it. So, that left the Winchesters no choice but to buy an owl.

Dean gazed at the dozens of owls lined up in their cages on the shelves. There were so many different types, white ones, brown ones, even black ones. Dean wasn’t sure how he was supposed to decide; does he just pick, or does the owl choose him, like his wand?

John kept pointing out random ones and saying “This one's nice.” But Dean didn't want to pick just any bird, it had to be the right one…. right? 

Sam, of course, kept looking at the most luxurious- and no doubt most expensive- owls on display. Dean didn’t really like how flashy they looked, they were much too regal for his taste. As he leaned on one of the shelves to get a better look at a white owl, he felt a nip on his finger. He pulled back away sharply, more startled than anything. He had accidentally leaned his hand against one of the cages, and thought for a second that maybe he had been bothering one of the owls. But the owl inside the cage, which had golden brown and black feathers and two tufts on its head that made it look like it had ears, stared at him intently with big round golden eyes. It was cooing at Dean, as if trying to beckon him over. Dean inched closer and delicately placed his hand on the cage again, saying softly “Hey, there.” This time the owl only lightly nibbled on Dean’s finger and allowed Dean to scratch its head through the bars.

And the rest was history. Dean bought the Long Eared Owl and named her Zeppelin. Sam was bouncing up and down with his excitement, trying to pet her through the bars of the cage as they walked but Dean told him to wait until they got home and leave her be for the time being. Dean could tell Sam was trying hard not to pout.

Hagrid helped them all home and gave his goodbyes, telling Dean that he’ll see him at the start of the first term, then left through the fireplace again. Bobby took one look at Zeppelin and muttered “This is our lives now.” But Dean didn’t miss it when he saw his uncle share a piece of his chicken wing with her. Even John grew fond of the owl rather quickly, and liked the fact that the owl didn’t need to be fed any special food because they hunted on their own- John was happy for his wallet in that regard. And Sam, to no one's surprise, was trying to teach her tricks.

Dean was only growing more and more excited for school to start in September.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure some of you might have caught on to some inaccuracies within the story (like not being able to trade muggle money for wizard money) and I'm sorry for them, it's been a while since I read the books and although i'm currently re-reading them now, there's a lot I don't remember. Just think of it as the writer's- thats me- head cannon. Though id you have any questions regarding these differences do not hesitate to ask in the comments! I love getting comments :D
> 
> Thanks for reading and see you next chapter!
> 
> Wist~


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ah! Another transfer, eh? Let's have a look…” - The Sorting Hat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOOO BOY this is a LONG chapter! Longer than my usual, at least.
> 
> Hey guys! It's been, what, 2 or 3 months since I posted the last chapter? I'm so sorry about the delay, like I said in the beginning I may be really bad at posting consistent chapters. I've got so much planned for this story but its one thing to think up a book and another thing to write it...
> 
> But anyway, I really hope you enjoy this chapter (Its my favorite one so far lol) and thank you all for almost 600 reads! You're all too great <3
> 
> ~ Wist

Sam had managed to teach Zeppelin shake, twirl, and speak. He had a tub of treats- that he had begged John for when they were at the store- full of dried jerky and pretzels. The Owl, however, was particularly attached to Dean, and it was only if she was out hunting when she wasn’t found perched on Dean’s shoulder.

The summer before Dean was to go to Hogwarts was spent pouring himself over his textbooks- his math and social studies textbooks were never nearly as interesting- and even practicing a few simple spells. He only melted the door knob once before he successfully performed _Alohomora_ , and exploded only two glass plates before he was able to levitate them using _Wingardium Leviosa_.

Not many know this about Dean, not even his own father, but he was actually a very quick and adaptable learner. If he wanted to learn something, he can learn it. His teachers would often grow very tired of him after trying to get Dean to pay attention in class, or to try more in school. Dean never had the patience for regular school, all of his subjects seemed boring and tedious. But Magic was different, magic was cool and exciting and _interesting_ \- nothing like regular school at all. Dean did enough to pass, but never showed any interest in anything other than hunting. But with Magic, he couldn’t decide which subject he liked more.

Sam was absolutely beside himself with excitement watching Dean as he studied and practiced. He seemed particularly interested in _A History Of Magic_ , and Dean allowed him to keep the copy their Mom had- and now it was rare if he ever saw Sam without it. Sam was an above average reader, and mostly had no trouble reading the text, but there were a few times where Dean had to help him sound out a word or two. After seeing Sam so taken with the book, Dean then let Sam keep all of their Mom’s other books and old school supplies that he didn’t need, including her old wand. Since Sam wasn’t a wizard it was as harmless as a stick, but this didn’t stop Sam from copying Dean and pretending to learn spells as well.

Summer came and went, and it was finally time for Dean to leave. Although Dean was buzzing with excitement, he was incredibly nervous too. He spent the morning working off his nerves by packing, throwing things across the room in his anxiousness to make sure he had packed everything. Sam, bless his tiny heart, was trying his best to help. Sam was organizing his books and supplies and neatly placing them in his trunk- because Dean had just haphazardly tossed them in there.

Dean, who normally had the appetite of a walrus, hardly touched his pancakes. Bobby had to force feed him some toast, and Sam got to eat the rest of Dean’s pancakes, much to his little brothers delight.

The train left at eleven am sharp, and although it was only ten to ten, John wanted to make sure they made it there on time; especially considering the steps that Hagrid had told them to get there. Since the school was in Scotland, and they were in America, Hagrid had showed them what the Wizarding community called a “Portkey”. It was an object that could transport them to where it was enchanted to go to within seconds. Hagrid had told them that it would transport them to a muggle train station in London, where they then had to run through a pillar between platforms nine and ten. The pillar was a secret passageway to Kings Cross station, where Dean would be boarding the train on platform nine and three quarters.

John was mumbling these instructions under his breath as he picked up the portkey- which was a rubber duck- off the shelf where they had placed it when Hagrid gave it to them. He had told John that the portkey was set to leave at nine in the morning on the first of september, and to make sure that they were all holding onto it when it was time, otherwise they would miss their chance and, obviously, miss the train.

Sam, of course, wanted to come too. John had told him that he should stay home at first but then Sam had begged and begged until John caved in. Sam had been admiring the duck for months, told not to touch it by Bobby in case something went wrong and Sam was transported to London out of nowhere, and now was finally the time he would get to see it in action.

Gathering up all of Dean’s bags and Zeppelin’s cage with the Owl safely inside, Dean, Sam, and John gathered together and each placed a hand on the rubber duck- Dean and John clutching tightly on Dean’s bags to make sure those were transported too. At exactly one minute to nine, John turned to Bobby and said “Me and Sam will be back in an hour or so, the erm… Portkey is also scheduled to transport us back here at 11:15.”

“So I should mentally prepare myself for you two to show up out of thin air, got it.” Bobby said, and then looked at Dean. “Good luck in school, kiddo. Don’t forget to write to us, ya hear?”

Dean grinned despite his nerves. “I won’t, bye Bobby.”

Bobby looked over at the clocked, noticed it said ten, then turned back to ask if the portkey was jammed or something, but Dean, John, and Sam were gone.

\--

The three Winchesters suddenly found themselves in the middle of a busy train station.

John was looking very green again, but quickly composed himself and looked around to make sure everybody and Dean’s bags were there.

“Alright boys, one crazy step down. Now for that pillar…” John said, looking left and right to figure out which way to go. John set out to the left and the boys followed.

Dean and John carried the bags while Sam was tasked with carrying Zeppelin. John finally stopped between their desired platforms, nine and ten, staring at it as if waiting for it to speak.

“What did that Hagrid guy say again? To just… run into the pillar?” John had asked Dean, and Dean shrugged.

Just then, Dean spotted two people making their way down the platforms, the younger one carrying an Owl. Dean tugged on John and pointed to them, and John watched as the Woman and what could only be her son stop just before the pillar between nine and ten.

“You’ve got all your books, right Kevin?” The woman asks her son, and Kevin nodded.

“Yes, Mom.” Kevin said obediently, and Dean noticed that their accents were very clearly American.

“Alright then, dear, you first, go on; so the muggles don’t notice.” Kevin’s Mom said briskly, urging her son to take a few steps back.

Kevin backed up, and then he sprinted across the platform and vanished through the pillar; followed immediately by the Mom.

John, Dean, and Sam took a moment to absorb what just happened. John snapped out of his trance and said “Well, that’s it then. Gotta run through it.”

“I’ll go first.” Dean said with bravery he didn’t have. He lined himself up with the pillar and took several steps back, then took off at a run straight for the pillar. He could hear his Dad saying “Wait, Dean-!” before he phased right through the pillar and out the other side.

Dean skidded to a halt, looking around. He had entered a completely different platform; witches and wizards were buzzing around him, many carrying Owls in cages or toads in carriers, cauldrons strapped to luggages and a very large, beautiful train sitting on the tracks, waiting to depart.

Sam collided with his back hard, clearly having closed his eyes when he ran through the pillar. Zeppelin was clutched tightly to his chest and she ruffled her feathers agitatedly at the cage being jostled around, but quickly calmed when Sam had stopped. Sam was then followed by John, who blinked and looked around, his expression mildly shocked. John cleared his throat and made his way toward his sons through the hustle and bustle of witches and wizards.

“Come on, Dean, lets go put your stuff on the train.” Said John.

John helped Dean put all his stuff in the overhead compartment inside the third car. Then Dean followed them out so he could spend the last twenty minutes or so with his Dad and brother. Dean felt his heart wrench at the thought of not seeing his family until Christmas break. John must have known this by the look on Dean’s face because he said “Don’t worry, son, It’ll go by quick. But don’t you start slacking like you did at your old school, I want you studying your books like you did over the summer.”

“Yes, sir.” Dean said and discreetly wiped his wet eyes with his sleeves, telling himself that _Winchesters don’t cry_.

It was absolutely nerve racking, standing there waiting for the time when he would have to board the train. Going to a school full of witches and wizards in a completely foreign country to learn magic was nothing less of insane, yet here he was, waiting to do just that.

As he stood there frantically thinking about what Hogwarts was like, he heard a voice a few feet away say “Grandma, I’m nervous…”

Dean, noticing the girls accent was also American, turned toward her.

“Honey, you'll be just fine. Hogwarts is the best school there is, and I'm sure you'll make plenty of friends.” Her grandmother soothed.

The girl had a full length of dark red hair, her face was scrunched up with worry and her blue eyes were filled with unshed tears; She was gripping the handle of her Owl’s cage so tight that her knuckles were white.

The grandmother continued to look down at her granddaughter worriedly as the girl stared at the train from behind her with searching wide eyes.

Before he even realized what he was doing, Dean found himself walking over to the red haired girl, saying “Erm, excuse me?”

The girl turned her wide eyes over to Dean, startled, as did the grandmother.

“I’m Dean.” He said, outstretching his hand for her to take. “I’m a transfer too. Do you wanna sit together? I’m in the third car.” Dean said, pointing to the train after giving her a very awkward handshake.

The grandmother smiled broadly at Dean and then looked at the red headed girl expectantly. The red headed girl, for her part, stared at Dean, looking him up and down, before flashing a large smile and nodding her head. “Sure! Thanks.”

John, the big gentlemen he was, helped the redheaded girl and her grandmother heave their luggage into the same overhead compartment where Dean was sitting. When they had gotten back off the train, the redheaded girl introduced herself as Charlotte.

“But you can call me Charlie.” She said to Dean, still holding her Owl’s cage in her hand. “Where are you from?” Charlie asked.

“Well, me, my Dad and brother traveled a lot after my Mom died, but I was born in Kansas.” Said Dean.

“Cool, I’m from Missouri.” Charlie said, and Dean was grateful that she didn’t give any condolences about his Mom; he hated when people treated him like a charity case. “I’ve been living with my Grandma since my parents got into the accident. She was really happy when I got my letter; apparently my great grandpa was a Wizard too.”  
  
“My Mom was a Witch.” Dean said, not commenting further about her parents as a silent thank you for not asking about his Mom. “My Dad almost didn’t let me come, but he eventually gave in.” Dean looked down at the Owl in the cage and asked “What’s your Owl’s name?”

Charlie grinned down at the brown and white Owl. “He’s pretty, isn’t he? His name’s Bilbo, he’s a Barn owl.”  
  
“Like from the Hobbit?” Dean asked excitedly.

“Yeah!” Charlie exclaimed. “The books and movies are my favorite. My mom used to read them to me when I was smaller.”

“I never read the books, but I’ve watched the movies at _least_ a hundred times. I could probably re-enact the entire movie line by line.”

The train whistle blew, and it was finally time for Dean and Charlie to board the train.

“You be good now, ya hear?” His father said sternly, giving Dean a hard pat on the back and smiling. “Don’t go blowing people’s heads off or whatever.”

Sam gave Dean a crushing hug, looked up at him and said “Send me Magic stuff!”

“Do not send Magic stuff,” John interjected. “I’ve seen your potions supplies, and if I that owl comes back with a toads spleen I’m gonna whoop your ass to hell and back.”

Dean gave his father and brother one last hug, then hopped onto the train and into his compartment. He and Charlie hung out the window and waved to their families as the train slowly departed. Once they were out of sight they sat in their seats and slid the window back up; Rain began to beat steadily against it.

“I think I’m gonna throw up.” Said Charlie, visibly nervous.

Dean laughed. “Me too, what do you think Hogwarts is like?”

“I have no idea what to expect.” Said Charlie, fiddling with the hem of her Star Wars t-shirt. “Wish I had my Gameboy, I could go for a few rounds of tetris to calm my nerves…”

“Yeah, I hear that phones and stuff don't work at Hogwarts, the magic messes with it or whatever.”

Charlie nods. “It's dumb.”

Just then, the compartment door slides open with a loud shattering sound.

“Oops, sorry.” A boy stands in the sliding doorway, looking guiltily at the two of them. He had rather large, goofy looking ears that were much too big for his small, round face, but his eyes were kind as he looked at Dean and Charlie. “I didn't realize how easily the doors would open.” He gives Dean and Charlie a hesitant look and says “Do you mind if I sit with you guys? Everywhere else is full…”

Another American transfer, Dean thought. “Yeah, sure.” Dean replies, gesturing for him to sit down next to him.

Looking relieved, the boy drags his luggage in the compartment and struggles to put it in the overhead. Once he finally finishes, he sits down next to Dean. “I'm Garth, by the way. Garth Fitzgerald III.”

“Nice to meet you Garth.” Charlie greets. “I'm Charlie and this is Dean.”

“You guys transfers too?” Garth asks.

“Yeah, I'm not exactly from anywhere because my family travels a lot, but Charlie's from Missouri. Where are you from?” Dean asks.

“Arizona.” Says Garth.

Dean nods, then says “So uh, Garth, Do you know anything about Hogwarts?”

Garth frowns. “A little bit, but not much. I'm muggleborn so it was hard for me to really know anything, but I did find out that we have to take a test as soon as we get there.”

Dean and Charlie both froze.

“A t-test?” Charlie stutters, breaking out into a sweat.

A test? Oh no, Dean wasn’t ready for a test. He didn't even finish reading _Hogwarts, A History_!

“Yeah,” Said Garth, giving a shiver of his own. “I think we're going to be sorted into school houses, and it's super important which one you get it.”

Dean audibly swallows. School houses? What does that mean? Are there bad and good houses? What if he gets sorted into a bad house?

Garth screws up his face, thinking. “I think… there's four? Yeah, four houses. What were they again?” Garth asks himself.

Something like a lightbulb inside Dean’s head lights up. “Wait! I think I remember seeing something in a textbook.”

Dean quickly pulls down his luggage- with much effort- and sorts through his neatly packed books that Sam had organized for him before pulling out _Hogwarts, A History_. He skips only a couple pages before he finds it, having completely forgotten about it since it was in the way beginning of he book.

“Here, school houses!” Dean squints at the text and reads “There are four houses; Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Slytherin. Each house has different traits, students will be sorted into each house if they hold the same traits as their respective houses.” Dean skips a few paragraphs and then continues to read. “Gryffindors are known to be Brave, Loyal, and Chivalrous; Hufflepuffs are Hard Working, Kind, and fair; Ravenclaws are Creative, Intelligent, and Wise; And Slytherins are Resourceful, Cunning, and Ambitious.”

“Okay, so… does it say anything about the test we have to take?” Garth asks.

Dean takes a moment to scan the chapter, then shakes his head.

“How are we supposed to take a test when we don't know anything yet!” Charlie exclaims.

None of this was helping Deans nerves. What kind of test are they going to have to take?

The door once again slides open, much more gently this time, and Dean sees a familiar head of dark hair and round eyes.

“I thought I heard your voice.” Meg Masters smirks at him before quickly glancing at Charlie and Garth. “Was I interrupting something?” She says with vague concern.

“Hey Meg, how's it hanging?” Dean greets, smirking right back at her. “And nah, we were just wondering what kind of test we have to take to get in our houses or whatever.”

Meg snorts. “You mean none of you know?” She says, clearly amused.

“Does that mean you know?” Dean asks eagerly.

Meg shakes her head and chuckles. “I'm gonna let you three find out for yourself.” She then regards Charlie and says “Cute hair, is that your natural color?”

Dean turns to Charlie and is confused when he sees her just staring at Meg, her face almost as red as her hair.

When Meg doesn't get an answer, she shrugs and says “I'll let you boneheads get back to your conspiring. See ya around.” She winks and closes the door.

Charlie is still staring at the sliding door as if Meg had never left. Dean waves a hand in front of her face and says loudly “Uh, Hello? Earth to Charlie?”

Charlie starts in surprise, whipping her head so sharply Dean was surprised she didn't get whiplash. “Who was that?” She says, sounding breathless.

Dean quirks and eyebrow, not really sure what's going on with his new friend. “Er, that was Meg Masters. I met her in the robes shop in Diagon Alley.”

“Oh.” Is all Charlie replies before pointedly staring into her lap.

Dean decides to ignore whatever that was, for now.

“What do you think this ‘test’ is going to be?” Garth asks, breaking the silence.

“Maybe we gotta perform some spells?” Charlie suggests, seeming to have broken out of her revery.

“Or fight monsters?” Dean suggests, and Garth and Charlie give him equally terrified looks. While Dean has some experience in that field, he is by no means an expert and who knows what kinds of monsters the Wizarding world has?

“I sure hope not.” Says Charlie. “I haven’t even casted a perfect _Lumos_ yet, let alone a monster killing spell. My wand just flickers and goes off everytime I try…”

For the third time that day, someone opens the sliding compartment doors. A plump witch pushing along a cart full of sweets peeks her head through.

“Anything from the trolley, dears?” She squeaks.

Dean’s stomach lets out a loud, growling noise; not eating anything but toast that morning had caught up to him. Eagerly, Dean pulled out his pouch full of Galleons that he had brought with him.

Soon, Dean had a handful of pumpkin pastries, Garth a box of ‘Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans’, And Charlie a couple of chocolate frogs.

Dean’s halfway through his third pumpkin pastry when Garth suddenly starts to sputter; he spits out one of the Jelly Beans he was eating into his hand and looks at it accusingly.

“That was horrid.” Garth chokes out, wrapping the chewed bean in a napkin.

“What was?” Charlie asks.

“That Jelly Bean!” Garth exclaims. “I think I got trout!”

Dean takes the box from him and looks at the back. “Marmalade, Strawberry, Marshmallow, Earwax, Sardine, Spinach- Eugh!” Dean hands back the box to Garth like it had slapped him. “When they say every flavor, they _mean_ every flavor…”

“Let me try!” Charlie picks a green one from the box and pops it in her mouth. “Oh, hey! Grass!”

Dean’s curiosity gets the better of him and he takes one out too, a yellow with orange spots. He spits it out almost immediately, not even having the grace to get a napkin and spitting it onto the floor instead, shoving a large mouthful of pumpkin pastry in his mouth to get the bad taste out. He’s coughing as he says “What the _fuck_ was that?”

Garth looks at the chart and grimaces. “Vomit.”

Dean didn’t touch the Jelly Beans for the rest of the train ride.

Garth was in the middle of telling a very invigorating story about his Uncle who got into a fight with a particularly large Elk when the train whistle blows, signaling that they were at their destination.

Dean reaches up and grabs both Zeppelin and Bilbo. Charlie’s barn owl twitters in his cage as Dean hands him to his owner, when Garth lets out a sudden yelp and clutches his chest.

“Are you okay?” Dean asks urgently, wondering vaguely if his friend was having a heart attack.

Garth reaches into his shirt and pulls out a rat, dangling it by the tail.

“Daisy!” Garth exclaims, glaring at the upside down rodent. “How many times do I have to tell you not to bite me when you’re in my shirt!”

The rat looked at Garth with her beady red eyes, soft gray spots decorated around her white fur.

“You had a rat in your shirt this whole time and didn’t tell us?” Charlie asks indignantly.

Garth looks at Charlie and Dean’s perplexed faces and says “You didn’t ask.”

Just as Dean was about to say how were they supposed to know to ask about something like that, several other students ushered their way down the hallway chattily, and Garth took that as cue to follow. With one look of puzzlement to Charlie, Dean dropped the subject and followed as well.

Upon stepping onto the platform, cold air immediately hit their faces. The soft rain from when they had left had turned into icy pellets despite it only being the beginning of September. Dean was about to follow the rest of the students that were heading off to the right when he heard a familiar voice off to his left.

“Firs’ years! Firs’ years come ter me, please!”

Dean immediately found Hagrid's long bushy haired face above the sea of students. He looked behind him to Charlie and grabbed her wrist to guide her in the right direction, who did the same for Garth, and pulled them towards Hagrid.

“Dean!” Hagrid bellowed when he saw him, the same large grin he remembered plastered on his face. “Good ter see yeh, boy. Find the train alrigh’?”

“Yup!” Dean grinned back.

Hagrid led Dean and the group of other first year students to the shore just before the water, lined them all up on the docks and helped each of them into small boats. Dean, Charlie, Garth, and some other girl with blonde hair all carefully sat in the boat.

Rain was still pouring hard when all the first years had settled in their boats, and water was quickly filling up inside, but just when Dean was sure his sneakers were about to be ruined, Hagrid pulled out a wand waved it.

Suddenly rain stopped pounding on their heads and the water was cleared out of the boats. All the students stared wonderingly at Hagrid.

Hagrid sighed happily and said “Feels good ter have me wand again. Alrigh’, everybody stay inside yer boat a’ all times! If anyone falls off just yell. Ready?”

And then suddenly they were moving. No matter how many times Dean has seen it, magic still amazes him. The boats silently floated by themselves across the water and through the pouring rain.

Hagrid seemed to have casted a bubble around them to shield them from the rain. They glided peacefully along for several minutes before something in the distance began to show itself.

Through the rain it was hard to tell what it was, but as they drew closer and the view began to clear, Dean had to keep his jaw from dropping.

Sat among a very large cliff was a magnificent castle, with warm light pouring from the windows. The large gothic structure took Dean’s breath away, he could hardly believe it was a school.

They reached the shore smoothly, and each student carefully lifted themselves from the boat. Dean and Charlie had to help a soaking Garth from the water because he tripped and fell completely in.

Dean, Charlie, and Garth stared at the castle in awe as they walked from the side of it to the front, where two large doors opened for them automatically and they filed inside.

The warm air hit them much more kindly than the icy rain. The inside of the castle was even more magnificent than the outside; stone walls and velvet floors, high ceilings and intricate pillar carvings. The air smelled like warm butter and roasted chicken, and Deans stomach began to growl.

They stopped in front of an intimidating man with a dark gray beard and long dark hair that was tied in a messy bun.

“Professor Cain!” Hagrid greeted immediately. “Glad ter see you've stayed another year. I'll hand these firsties off ter you, then?”

“Yes, Hagrid, You can leave them to me.” Professor Cain said with a faint smile. Hagrid turned around, made eyes with Dean, and mouth “Good luck” with a thumbs up, then went through the other double doors that Dean noticed led to a large Hall.

“Good evening, children.” Cain said and Dean immediately turned his eyes toward the professor. “I am Professor Cain, you will soon know me as the Transfiguration teacher here at Hogwarts.”

Dean remembers reading through some of his transfiguration text over the summer, and turning a butterfly into a pin was harder than it looked; his pin still had wings.

“When they are ready to let us in, we will walk in a neat file to the front of the room where you are to be sorted into you houses. I ask that you be respectful, and when your house is announced you are to go to your house tables. From there the Headmistress will give her speech about house rules and then the feast will begin. I'm sure you're all hungry from yours travels, Merlin knows I am.” Cain places a hand on his stomach and a few students giggle.

Another older looking student peeks his head from the doors leading to the hall and waves them in. Cain looks back at the students and says “Hope to see you in Hufflepuff.” With a wink.

They follow Cain through the doors and into the hall. Dean is immediately drawn to the high ceiling where he could see the rain falling from the sky, but not pouring into the hall. He remembers reading about it being bewitched and leans in to tell Charlie just that, who “Oo’s!” appreciatively.

Dean feels the eyes of all the older students on them and shifts uncomfortably under their gaze. They reach the front of the hall where a long table with who could only be other professors are sat. Dean makes eye contact with Hagrid and Hagrid waves at him enthusiastically.

Dean is confused when he sees a stool at the front of the professors table, and sat upon it was an old battered looking witches hat. Cain has them stop just before it, then stands to face the students and pulls out a long scroll.

“When I call your name,” Cain says loudly so the whole room can hear. “You are to sit on this stool so the hat may sort you into your house. But first…”

Cain looks at the hat as if expecting it to speak when-

“HAH!” The hat bursts out and scares practically everyone in the room. “WELCOME! Welcome first years! Before you are all sorted, listen to my song!”

The last thing Dean had expected was a song, but before he had time to even sink in the fact, the hat started to sing.

 

_“Long ago, in times of old_

_Back before you and I were born_

_There lived four witches and wizards_

_Who were tired to the bone_

_Of people who don't understand_

_That wizards are just like them._

_And so they built our magnificent school_

_Where we can flourish in._

_Gryffindor, the bravest man_

_A wizard with a hearty heart_

_Wanted to teach those who were brave_

_And Chivalrous from the start._

_But Slytherin, quick and cunning_

_Wanted those resourceful lot_

_The ones of pure blood surly will_

_Repute the power they sought._

_Wise old Ravenclaw refused_

_To teach those who won't learn_

_For wit and intelligence_

_Surely beat any other thought._

_And kindly, lovely Hufflepuff_

_Wished to bring anyone_

_Wishing to seek magic_

_And treat others fair and true._

_Now listen well to my song_

_Don't look the other way_

_As long as we are band together_

_Hogwarts will remain!”_

 

Everyone in the room started to clap and Dean reluctantly joined in. He leaned back toward Charlie and whispered “That was… entertaining.” And Charlie snickered.

When the applause stopped, Cain lifted up the scroll and said “Now for the sorting…” There was a few seconds of silence, then Cain said “Alden, Adam.”

A boy with floppy brown hair and contrasting sharp gold eyes steps out of the line and sits on the stool. Cain places the hat onto his head and then…

“Slytherin!” The hat shouted, and the table off to the far left clapped as the boy hopped off the stool and made his way over to his house.

Dean was relieved. There was no test, no monsters to fight, just a hat that tells you where to go. He could do that… right?

“Acres, Ariel.”

“Ravenclaw!”

Dean watched one by one as the sorting hat sorted his classmates into each house and wondered where he would be put. He didn't have too much time to wonder though, because Cain had then said “Bradbury, Charlie.”

Charlie glanced nervously at Dean before making her way up to the stool. She sat down and Cain placed the hat on her head.

Charlie took longer than the other students, while the hat had practically shouted everyone's houses within two or three seconds, Charlie had sat for at least a full minute before the hat shouted “Gryffindor!”

The Gryffindors all clapped as Charlie walked over and sat at the table, shooting Dean a large grin as she passed. Dean grinned back.

“Ravenclaw!”

“Hufflepuff!”

“Ravenclaw!”

“Gryffindor!”

It was a little while longer before Garth’s name was called.

“Fitzgerald, Garth.”

Garth trotted up to the stool, and promptly almost slipped off it when he sat on it wrong. A few students snickered and Garth blushed a little in embarrassment.

The hat barely touched his head when it shouted “Hufflepuff!”

Garth thankfully didn't trip on his way over to the Hufflepuff table.

“Futz, Jenna”

“Gryffindor!”

“Harvelle, Joanna.”

“Ravenclaw!”

Dean watched as the blonde girl that shared a boat with them earlier sat down at the ravenclaw table.

“Jones, Ruby!”

A very pretty girl with long, dark brown hair and eyes sauntered her way up to the stool and sat down, legs crossed. Dean wasn't terribly surprised when the hat said “Slytherin!”

“Luve, Randall.”

“Hufflepuff!”

“Masters, Megan.”

Meg made her way up to the stool and shot Dean a grin and a wink. Again, there were no surprises when the hat put her in Slytherin. As Meg got off the stool she looked at Dean, stuck out her tongue waved a rock symbol with her hand before sitting down next to Ruby Jones. Dean had to suppress a laugh.

“Novak, Castiel.”

There was a murmuring in the crowd of students as a boy with jet black hair sat down on the stool. Dean noted the way some students turned to their friends to whisper in their ear and wondered what the deal with this kid was. Castiel didn't seem pleased to be up there either, he fidgeted in his seat and looked as though he was about to throw up.

The hat was placed on his head and the whole room was blanketed in silence within moments. If possible, the hat took even longer to decide than Charlie. After what must have been a whole two and a half minutes, the hat spoke.

“Hufflepuff!”

All the blood in Castiel’s ill looking face drained, turning a sickly shade of pale green. The chattering of the other students from before was even louder now, and Professor Cain had to shout “Quiet down everyone! Quiet down!”

Looking dejected, the boy with the black hair slides off his chair and makes his way over to the Hufflepuff table.

Dean didn't really pay attention much to next next handful of students getting sorted. His eyes were on Castiel, who had his head resting on his arms.

Hufflepuff must not have been the house Castiel was expecting to be in; but why? Surely it couldn't be that bad? Then again, Dean didn't know much about any of the houses other than Gryffindors were brave, Hufflepuffs were kind, Ravenclaws are smart, and Slytherins are resourceful. Perhaps there was more to it than Dean realized.

“Tran, Kevin.”

Dean had finally stopped creepily staring at the Hufflepuff boy long enough to notice that the kid from train station was making his way up to the sorting hat. He seemed almost as nervous as Castiel was, only he fidgeted more and was less green and more pink in the cheeks.

There was only a few moments of silence before-

“Ravenclaw!”

Kevin looked visibly relieved, and happily hopped off the stool and ran over to the Ravenclaw table. He sat next to the blonde girl, Joanna, who smiled at him and immediately started up a conversation.

More students went up, and as they did the relief from when he found out that the test was only a sorting hat quickly vanished and anxiety began to creep in. The same thoughts from the train reverberated in his head again.

What if he got sorted into a bad house? Would Charlie and Garth still be his friend? Which house was even considered bad? Castiel didn't seem pleased about being in Hufflepuff, but then again that Luve kid didn't seem unhappy about it. What if he didn't get sorted at all? What if he went up there and the hat said there was some mistake and Dean wasn't even magic at all and-

“Winchester, Dean.”

Without even realizing, Dean was the last one standing. All the other children have been sorted, and Dean was standing awkwardly in the middle of the hall. He felt a million eyes on him and all he wanted to do was be invisible just so they could stop staring at him.

Dean forced his legs to move, walking up to the stool and sitting down in it. Professor Cain placed the hat on his head and the whole room of eyes vanished and all there was was black.

“Ah!” Dean heard a voice, the hat, say. “Another transfer, eh? Let's have a look…”

Dean sat there waiting for a few more seconds.

“Complicated, very complicated. You're strong, no doubt. And oh yes, brave. Loyal to boot, too. And yet you're also quick to learn when it interests you, and resourcefulness comes naturally, with the background you grew up in…”

“Erm…” Dean began to say but the hat started speaking again.

“You'd do well in any house, if I'm being honest. But you must be put into one… where to put you… where to put you…

“I see great things for you, Dean Winchester. Very great. The things you will do… yes… my decision is now clear… you must be in

“GRYFFINDOR!”

The hat was ripped from his head and Dean is greeted by a the Gryffindor table clapping, and so he quickly makes his way over to Charlie and sits down next to her.

“Were in the same house!” She says to him excitedly, bouncing a little in her chair. Dean grins back at her and notices that both their ties had changed from plain gray to red and gold.

There was a clinking of glass and Dean looks up to see an old woman, sat in the middle of the table, standing and waiting for all the students to be silent.

She was old but certainly looked like no woman to be trifled with. Her graying black hair was tied in a tight bun on her head and her robes were a rich, dark maroon that matched her pointed hat. Her eyes scanned the room of students like a hawk, as if scolding them with only a look. The students quieted down quickly, and all looked at her expectantly. Dean and Charlie listened too.

“Welcome, new students. And welcome back, to our older students. To our new arrivals, I am Headmistress Minerva Mcgonagall, but you may call me Professor Mcgonagall. Before we dig in to a wonderful feast, there are some school rules that I must inform our new students, and reiterate to our older ones.”

Professor Mcgonagall went on about dress codes and tardiness to classes, and it was all horribly boring. Dean found himself drifting off into space, until-

“And I must also inform you, once again, that the forbidden forest is, for lack of better word, _forbidden_. If you are caught sneaking into the forest there will be serious consequences and punishments will be given.”

Dean turned to Charlie. “What's the forbidden forest?”

Jenna Futz, the other first year Gryffindor who had a bush full of curly blue hair leaned across the table and whispered “It's a forest filled with horrible creatures and stuff just outside of Hogwarts. My Grandmum told me a girl from her class once died when her friends dared her to go in.”

Dean and Charlie looked at each other with equally disconcerting looks.

“And before we get to the feast-”

Dean lets out a soft groan and says to Charlie “How much longer do we have to wait? I'm _starving_.”

“I must also welcome our American transfers here at Hogwarts, we are delighted to have you and hope you enjoy our curriculum and our culture here in Scotland. Now-” she claps her hands twice. “Let us feast!”

Dean had never seen so much food in his life. Piles of roast chicken and corned beef, mashed potatoes and boats of every kind of gravy, stewed tomatoes, miniature shepherds pie; where would he even start?

Dean was piling his plate high with stuffed duck when he overheard a student about three chairs down say “That new Novak boy didn't seem too happy about being in Hufflepuff eh?”

“Can you blame him, Dan? I mean, have you ever heard of a Novak being a Hufflepuff? It just doesn't happen.”

Dean pretended to take his time scooping mashed yams on his plate to listen further.

“It can't be that bad,” The student, Dan, said. “The Novaks are a pretty diverse bunch, aren't they? They've got Slytherins and Ravenclaws-”

“Yeah, but not a single one of them has been placed in Hufflepuff. Ever.” Another student, whose blonde curls ran all the way down to her lower back, said. “I’m pretty sure their father frowns upon it. My mother is friends with their aunt, she hears all sorts of things about them. Like-”

“Like what, Maylan.”

The three students talking and Dean all jump in surprise at the voice. Dean tries to act casual as he shovels shepherds pie in his mouth.

“O-oh, Michael! Glad t-to see you again! Have a nice summer?” The girl splutters, her entire face turning Scarlett. Dan and the other student also try to look as if they hadn't just been gossiping.

Michael was a tall, dark haired boy who looked to be at least seventeen. His dark hair was swept neatly with gel and he seemed to give off a very mature and self righteous kind of aura.

He narrowed his eyes at the three students and said “I’d appreciate it if you didn't talk about family matters that don't concern you.”

And just like that he left, his robes billowing behind him like some kind of ethereal god. He made his way to the end of the Gryffindor table and sat next to a very pretty girl with short blonde hair.

“Damn Michael Novak.” The boy that Dean didn't know his name yet snarled. “He thinks just because he’s Head Boy it means he can snoop around in other people’s conversations whenever he pleases.”

“Careful, Chandler.” Dan said with a smirk on his lips. “I hear he’s got super sonic hearing. Better watch your mouth or he’ll put you in detention.”

“Har har.” The other boy, Chandler, drawled.

The three older students changed the topic after that, so Dean turned his attention back to Charlie, who was going on about broom lessons.

Just when Dean thought he couldn't eat anymore, desserts appeared in replace of dinner food so Dean of course couldn’t resist the pecan pie sitting right in front of him, calling his name. He was on his third slice when the Headmistress bid everyone goodnight, so Dean shoved the last of the pie in his mouth and followed the Prefect who was leading the first years to the common room.

The common was just as warm and inviting as the dinner hall. But Dean was much too tired to pay it much attention at the moment. He waved to Charlie as she went up to the girl's dormitory, and made his way up to the boys.

The sight of his bed made Dean want to just flop down on it and sleep forever. All his bags had been brought up including Zeppelin- wait, wasn't he holding her when he got off the train? Again he was too tired to think about it.

Dean changed into pajamas and collapsed onto the bed. His head was filled with roast chicken and pecan pie, as well as excitement for what was in store for him at Hogwarts.

But the last thing he thought about before he drifted off to sleep, was who is Castiel Novak? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY Dean and everyone finally got sorted! I had to do some careful thinking about who goes where, but in the end I'm pretty happy with where I put everyone. 
> 
> Did y'all like my Sorting Hat song? LOL. I worked pretty hard on that one, and I know some of it doesn't rhyme but lets just pretend the sorting hat was off his game this year.
> 
> See you in the next chapter!
> 
> ~ Wist


End file.
